


Crack

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, It's not super romantic but Hubie plays a big role at the end, M/M, Or rather NO coping mechanisms, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: A strong gust of wind enticed a branch to fall from a tree, the loud crack of snapping wood causing Ferdinand to jump from his seat, sharply swinging his arm to his side before realizing there was no lance there to grab, nor danger to require it. Of course. It was peacetime, and the war was weeks, months behind him now. There was, of course, the threat of assassins, but for the most part, he was safe.Oh so safe.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	Crack

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first part of this an age ago and floundered around tryin' to end it and finally came up with something I'm at least somewhat satisfied with.

A gentle wind rustled through the leaves of the grand tree that provided shade to the quaint little tea table situated deep in the castle gardens. It was there at Ferdinand's request, a gift of goodwill from the Emperor herself. He enjoyed having quiet space to enjoy nature on days he had free time, and there was no better spot than here.

The sky was full of gray clouds, uncertain whether they wished to unload their burdens onto the world now or later. It would most definitely rain today, but Ferdinand thought he would utilize the short time he could be outdoors before he dedicated his time to paperwork. He was taking his tea in an antique pot, a gift passed down through the maternal side of his family. The title of von Aegir was from his father's line, so he had little connection to the life his mother lived before she married, and he treasured this small remnant greatly. It reminded him of times before-- times that were of no importance. The future was bright! Bright and wonderful!

"Such a peaceful afternoon..." he muttered into the lip of his cup, using the moment to take in the fragrance of the brew before sipping fully. He felt at peace with himself and the world around him. Truly. There was nothing more beneficial to one’s state of mind than a fine cup and a nice tree to sit under. Honestly.

A strong gust of wind enticed a branch to fall from a tree, the loud _crack_ of snapping wood causing Ferdinand to jump from his seat, sharply swinging his arm to his side before realizing there was no lance there to grab, nor danger to require it. Of course. It was peacetime, and the war was weeks, months behind him now. There was, of course, the threat of assassins, but for the most part, he was safe. 

Oh so safe.

He was not being threatened, his life was not in danger, _he no longer had to take any lives_ -

_Crack._

The old, delicate porcelain handle cracked and shattered in his grip, which had tightened unknowingly. Another strong gust and much of the table setting whipped onto the ground with it, including the teapot itself. Silverware, steeper, cups and pot. The pot which was his mother’s. That teapot, indeed. 

_Crack._

Ornate, elegant, downright historic, is what that teapot is. Was. As it lay shattered in the grass. 

_Crack._

_Crack,_ went the mask that Ferdinand wove so intricately over his features.

Drip, went the tears rolling down his face, his sobs so loud they could be heard over the thunder clapping in the distance. He wasn’t crying.

He certainly was not. 

He could not be.

_Your relentless optimism... Well. Suffice it to say that it is your best quality._

Smile, Ferdinand von Aegir must smile. Confidence is what was needed to heal the scars of war, his own scars mattered not. Others suffered far worse, what does he know of suffering? A spear through the side, an axe to the shoulder, a sword piercing his gut, an arrow that very nearly hit an artery in his neck- what was that compared to- to-

“Ferdinand? Ferdinand!”

That voice, always so calm, a steady presence in a sea of uncertainty, had panic in it that didn’t belong, because of him, he did it, _he ruined it, he’s ruined everything_ , he is barely fit to call himself a noble. When a hand laid itself upon his shoulder he shrugged it off.

“I am fine.”

“That is clearly not the case.”

“I am **fine** ,” he reiterated, voice laden with desperate insistence. It was ignored. He felt a gentle embrace envelop him as the sky thundered like a war drum and rain fell upon them the same as the heavy tears upon his cheeks.

He shuddered, and the floodgates burst.

“I cannot be so weak! If I am to remain Prime Minister, if I want to be of any help at all, I must remain strong! The empire cannot be lead by a man who cries over teacups or pain or death, a man who bends to a light breeze! It cannot- I cannot-”

“You are not weak,” Hubert von Vestra never spoke softly, but now his tone took on soothing, almost melodic quality, and the suddenly exhausted Ferdinand wished for nothing more than to be asleep in his arms, to find the peace he knew did not exist, “War is suffering. It is the deliberate causing of suffering to gain something. We were just among the rare few who did so in the name of the greater good, but of course, all we have is conviction to back that up. To many we may very well be seen as tyrants.”

The rain came down harder, a torrent from the heavens either urging Hubert to stop. A warning he did not heed.

“But what does it matter? It is over. We have both done bad things, and been on the receiving end of such things. All we can do now is proceed forward with the best interest of the people...and one another in mind. If you are struggling, I beg of you,” _pleadingly,_ **_pleadingly_ ** _,_ “Come talk to me. You are many things Ferdinand von Aegir, but you are not alone.”

Silence fell between them, no noises besides the songs of nature all around them, pounding on their heads.

“The tea pot...”

“We can replace it.”

“My mother’s...”

“I will fix it.”

“What?”

Finally releasing him, Hubert leaned over to the shattered porcelain and carefully, delicately, gingerly picked up all the pieces he could see, ignoring the water pouring on his head. His wet hair clung to his face, further obscuring his vision, but he did not stop. All Ferdinand could do was watch, wordlessly, as a man known for his intimidating dignity dug around through the grass as dog would with its nose, searching for the pieces of a broken teapot. 

_Such a small thing does not matter!_ He wished to scream, why couldn’t he just _scream-_

Because it was not true. It did matter to him-

-and so did the other man.

Body numbing from the chill rain but mind clearer than ever, he inched forward on his knees and rested his head against Hubert’s broad back, wrapping his arms around his waist and squeezing with all the might he still possessed, “We can get it in the morning, Hubert.”

“Are you certain?”

“Hm. At this moment in time, I wish to be back, inside in your arms. I am not quite alright, and would like to made warm.”

With a small, private smile reserved just for Ferdinand, Hubert rose, helping his partner to his feet, and held on to him the entire walk back into the palace. As they walked, Ferdinand turned his head back to spare a glance at the mess they left behind them.

The teapot may be shattered, but he would not be.•

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't wrap it up TOO tidily right lmao? That was my big concern, I wanted to make it clear it was still a PROBLEM but hes just now actually acknowledged it. Let me know what you thought!


End file.
